“National Brush in Day”

 I am not sure what the person was thinking that came up with “Brush In Day” but clearly social services should have been involved at some point.  This form of child abuse has long ended but back in the 1960’s and 70’s it seemed to a sanctioned event by our parents, or maybe they just were not paying attention.

There has been some debate where it took place.  Some say it was in the front lawn of the Red Brick School, Aspen Middle School at the time.  Others say it took place in the playground of the Yellow Brick School, the Aspen Elementary School at the time.  I believe both camps may be right based on which year the crime took place.  I for one remember most vividly, having all of us paraded from the school to Peapcke Park one block away.  At the time, before we picked up our house and moved it, we lived across the street from the park.

The crime went like this… all of the students were lined up in the park, or whatever venue it took place that year.  Each student was given a small “dab” of fluoride paste, a Dixie cup of water and a small red chewable pill.  We also got a small, toothbrush to aid in committing this travesty.  Very exacting instructions were given to us, dip the toothbrush in the water and then rub it the pile of fluoride.  At that point the punishment commenced when we were told to thoroughly brush our teeth.  Once the gagging and brushing stopped, we were allowed to spit out the paste.  Many followed that act with a retching sound; some even fertilized the grass at that point.  I was glad that I was yet to eat my lunch.  My mom’s standard affair of white bread lathered in Miracle Whip and processed American cheese.  Had I already had lunch, that sandwich would have come up faster than greased lightning.  But I digress.

For those of us not busy “selling Buicks” our next task was to chew up that little red pill.  After what we had already been forced to put in our mouths, the pill was a non-event.  What it revealed was another story.  That damn pill showed the teachers and dentists in attendance just how poorly we had brushed our teeth on the first go-around.

Rinse and repeat!  More nasty fluoride and brushing ensued.  More throwing up, gagging and even more groaning became the order of the day.

When the carnage was over the park was a white as snow, even some yellow snow if you catch my drift.  Let’s not forget, this was in the 1960’s and there was another side effect to this whole ordeal.  Peapcke Park was a “safe haven” for the hippies and druggies of the day.  After watching a bunch of brushing, gagging and yacking children, many of the hippies disappeared into the hills and did not come back for over a week.

My memory is strong but even it has some gaps but as for this annual event, I recall about four “Brush In” Days.  I can only hope there was a law passed putting this to an end once and for all.

“One of Many”

As a member of the Aspen Ski Club in the late 1960’s and 1970’s I participated in Ski Races all over Colorado.  My team members and I traveled to the most remote ski areas in the state.  Places like Crested Butte, Telluride, Monarch Mountain, Steamboat and even Purgatory.  Our adventures included races in Vail, Breckenridge and Loveland.  Some venues were more inviting than others but each one created a lasting memory of its own.

It seemed like every race ever scheduled in Breckenridge coincided with the coldest day of the year.  We would wake up in our inns and motels at 4:30 in the morning to get our skis ready for the day.  Wax had to be matched to the temperatures predicted for that particular day.  Silver wax, best in the coldest temperatures, was always the order of the day when skiing in Breckenridge.  Coffee was served even to the youngest of kids if they wanted it.  By 7:00 a.m. we would all collect at the base of the ski area where we would get our “bibs” and find out what order we would be making our first run.  By now the cold had already reached the deepest recesses of our bones and our day was only getting started.

I do not know about today but back then we were not allowed to wear our jackets or parkas during our race.  By the grace of a concerned parent, our jackets would be shuttled down to the finish area.  It seemed like forever from the time we took off our jackets until we were reunited with them at the bottom.  I can only assume it made us race faster just to be reunited with our jackets.

40 years later while on a family vacation in Breckenridge my childhood memories came rushing back.  They were holding a race on the very same run where we had run our races so many years ago.  The kids are so small and yet so fast.  I forgot how young we were back then.

I went to the bottom of the racecourse to look at the results, deep down I think I was looking for my name among them but it was not there.